


Breathe In Breathe Out

by Gyhl



Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: Kingsman
Genre: And apparently Roxy isn't escaping being the center of a fic, Eggsy just can't get a break this month, Gen, Hypothermia, I know that's not what delayed drowning is, Whumptober 2020, this is my interpretation of the prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyhl/pseuds/Gyhl
Summary: Delayed Drowning| Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
Relationships: Roxy Morton | Lancelot & Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950607
Kudos: 25
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Breathe In Breathe Out

“If this how I die…”

“Shut up,” Roxy snapped at him. “You are _not_ dying.”

Eggsy watched her shadow as she struggled with the rocks on him. She’d been working the ones she could move off of him for the last five minutes. She was quickly getting to ones too heavy to move.

The fucked up thing was… they weren’t even out on a mission. They’d been on a six-month assignment and had gotten off of it finally. After being debriefed, Harry’d sent them off for a week so they could recuperate. Roxy had been the one to suggest somewhere warm; he’d suggested the beach.

And the one they’d gone to was beautiful. Warm, sandy, no people for miles. It was at the base of a curved cliff. It was nicely hidden and isolated, something you had to know was there to find it. And that, well, had been one of the big draws. Now, he was pretty sure it was gonna be his death.

They’d been relaxing after swimming, both of them laid out on the boulders at the base of the cliff and just soaking up the heat from the rocks. They’d _missed_ the heat during their assignment, and if he never saw snow again (Eggsy laughed inwardly; _what ‘if’_?) it would be too soon. But then they’d heard little _ting_ s as silt starting falling from above them. They’d barely had time to start moving when they heard the _crack_ of rock breaking apart. She’d been ahead of him, just enough that she was only hit by them. He ended up _under_ them.

He was fairly certain at least one leg was broken, if not both. With all the weight on him, he’d quickly lost feeling in his legs. He could, however, feel where there were bits of grit and sand in the cuts on his back. Every time she moved something that shifted him, he felt that shit bite in harder.

He’d curled an arm under his head and used that to keep his face out of the wet sand. And now he was watching as the water started coming up higher with every wave. The tide was coming in. 

“Rox… It’s gonna take Merlin a couple hours to get anyone here.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“The tide’s coming in.”

She was silent for a moment. “Then I’ll just have to move faster.”

He listened to her struggle as she tried to lever herself against one of the larger ones enough to move it. He smiled to himself, listening to her muttering some rather creative curses he’d never heard from her before. The water was starting to come up over his arm and he was going to tell her to just stop and sit with him until the end when he felt the rocks on him shift… and there was sudden, nearly blinding pain.

He screamed, coming up as far as he could. “Stop, stop, stop!”

“What’d it hit?”

“Small of my back,” he hissed. “ _Fuck_.”

“I’ll find-”

“ _Rox_ ,” he said. “Water’s already over my arm.”

“No! I. I,” it was the closest to stammering he’d ever heard from her. “I fucking _refuse_ to let you die on this beach.”

He watched her as she looked up and down the beach. He could _see_ her pushing down her fear and her worry. He could see the emotion draining out of her face. This wasn’t something he’d really ever seen before, the emotional change as she pushed away Roxy Morton and embraced Lancelot.

“Whoever Merlin’s sent will have to work on getting the rocks of off you,” she said, almost to herself. “Alright, the water’s a nice bit above 4°. It’ll get colder as the tide gets higher, but you’ll still have a couple hours.”

“I’ll have five minutes,” he said blandly.

“Eleven, actually,” she said and looked him over. “You’re going to be cold; you’re going to be tired. And I swear to God, Eggsy, you give up on me and I’ll fucking kill you.”

He bit down on a grin. “So… how’re we doing this?”

“I’m going to breathe for you,” she said. “We’re… close enough to the tide line. It shouldn’t come up much higher than my chest at its highest. Once the water’s above your head, I want you to keep a hand on me, high up. That’ll give me something to hold onto on my way back down so I don’t get swept away from you with the tide.” She sat down beside him and took his hand; she squeezed it, and didn’t like the fact that his grip felt weaker than normal. “We’ll get through this.”

She stayed holding his hand as the water crept up over his arm, over his lips. Once it was too high for him to breathe, she lay forward so she could get to him easier and pressed her lips to his. She gave him two, slow breaths and pushed up above the water. She gave a slow count of six before pushing back under and breathing for him. She kept a tight grip on his hand as she worked.

It wasn’t long before she had to sit up between breaths, and not much long after that she was kneeling in the water. She could feel herself rocking with every wave as the tide rose. She wondered, idly, if the force might be hard enough to move the rocks on him. She almost hoped it wouldn’t be. If it moved wrong, he’d scream again. If that happened, she wasn’t sure there’d be a way to stop him from drowning.

She was already shivering by the time the water was high enough that she had to stand. Was the water just getting colder faster than she’d anticipated, or was it because she was constantly going under and then coming up again? If it was too cold, he wouldn’t have enough time. She forced that thought away and slammed the door on it. She was _not_ going to let him die, so there was no point even considering that the water might be too cold for him to survive.

She focused on counting and on breathing for him. One, two, three, four, five, six; deep breath, dive down; find him, press her lips to his, and breathe slowly into his mouth twice; come up; one, two, three, four, five, six.

The sun was going down. They didn’t have any sort of a fire or flare or anything on the shore that’d make it easier for whoever Merlin sent to find them. And she could feel how the effort was already taking a toll on her; she knew it had to be taking a toll on him, as well.

She dove under again, wondering what would happen if they happened to pass over while she was underwater. How far would they move in that time? How long would a sweep of the entire shoreline take? She broke the surface and realized she wasn’t thinking clearly. They’d be using night vision and infrared to find them. Even if she were under at the time, they’d still be visible.

Clearly the cold was getting to her. How long had it been?

Night came, and all she knew was counting, diving, breathing, rising. She was tired, so tired, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to keep it up much longer. She felt something touch her and she startled and then flailed in a very undignified manner. 

“Lancelot! Sir!”

She knew the voice was familiar, but she was too cold to place it easily. The codename, though, _that_ broke through the haze enough to tell her it was alright to relax. “Galahad…”

“We’ve got him, sir.”

“He can’t breathe!”

“I know, sir,” came the patient reply. “They’re giving him a regulator while they work him out. Let’s get you-”

“No!,” she all but shrieked as she struggled in the Agent’s grip. “I’m not leaving him!’

She stayed by his side until they managed to get him out of the water. She kept a tight hold on his hand as they got to the jet. And once they were on board, wrapped in warming blankets, she curled up against him, sharing her blanket’s warmth with him even though he had his own. She passed out against him - not that he’d been conscious all too long after leaving the water - still holding onto his hand.


End file.
